


Bedside Therapy

by PhantomWriter



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Connor is a doctor, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 20:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16144691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomWriter/pseuds/PhantomWriter
Summary: When Cole Anderson was in dire need of surgery after a road accident with Hank, it was an android that operated on him.Cole lived.AU where Connor is an android doctor prototype





	Bedside Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta-ed

The moment Hank woke up, he felt like shit.

His side hurt, and his leg itched. It smelled of clean linens and heavily of medicine. The light above him was blearing that had his head ache. He winced, thinking back what landed him in here. He remembered driving—he was driving Cole to spend the weekend with his ex-wife… there was a truck that skidded on an ice sheet… their car rolled over… Cole at the passenger's seat… no… no… no…

Hank immediately sat up and was seized with a white hot pain that almost blacked him out.

He let out an inhuman groan of pain, hand going to his side where he could feel a long stitch through the thin hospital gown. The hand itself was littered with small cuts, and a much deeper one on the forearm. He didn't even remember how he got the injuries, because shielding Cole with his body was his topmost priority.

Different aches from different parts of his body made themselves known when Hank attempted to stand up, particularly on his arms and hands. He was struggling with the tape securing the IV— _Jesus, what the hell do they use for this?_  —when the door to his room opened and there came a man, err, android in a lab coat.

"What are you doing, Lieutenant Anderson?"

"I need to see my kid. Cole. I need to see him. He's alright, isn't he?" At the android's silence and rapidly blinking yellow LED, Hank was washed over with dread that twisted his insides painfully than the aggravating his stitch. "Oh my god. Is he…"

The android doctor blinked, rushing to Hank's side to steady him when he was ready to keel over. "No. Cole Anderson remains unconscious in the ICU, but he'll live." The android gingerly secured Hank's IV, mildly giving him a push back to the bed as he said, "Your son is strong, Lieutenant."

It was an android, and no way in hell there was any real emotions behind its words, but Hank was put at ease nonetheless, no longer protesting as he laid his head again to the pillow. "Can I see him?"

"Of course. Rest for a bit, Lieutenant. I'll even escort you to him later."

When the android pulled up the covers, relief was helping the unbidden sleepiness take over Hank.

Cole was fine. Hank was fine. Everything would be alright.

* * *

Cole woke briefly within the thirty minutes Hank visited him, and then falling unconscious once again after a few blinks. It was a good sign, the android doctor said, way earlier than he expected Cole to show signs of consciousness. They might move Cole to a normal room, maybe at Hank's even, after a week if he continued showing promise of quick recovery.

"He sustained most of the impact judging by the broken bones on his lower body," the android doctor said. "His head didn't receive any head trauma, fortunately." He glanced at Hank, tilting his head, and his LED blinking yellow again as before. "It was because of you."

"Instinct," Hank said offhandedly. He wouldn't be understood anyway if he told this android how Cole's life was more important than his. "Who operated on him?"

He supposed he has to thank the doctor who operated on Cole. It was certainly human, because while Hank wasn't keeping up to date with what fields of work androids could be found, he couldn't miss the news regarding protests against androids handling delicate procedures such as surgery on humans. Sure, they have the priority of human lives, but they were still machine doing what was programmed on them. Therefore, as far as Hank knew, it was still humans working on the ER.

Oddly enough, the android took time to answer; Hank noted how he didn't seem so… robotic during the momentary hesitation. "It was me." At Hank's frown, he elaborated, "Dr. Wilkins, the doctor on duty, was indisposed when you two came in, and there was no human doctor that could possibly arrive within ten minutes. Your son was in dire need of surgery, and you have to be patched up as well."

Well, that was fucking risky considering Cole's life on the line, but Hank was grateful either way. Because of this android, Cole was safe. "I see."

"You're not angry?" the android actually sounded surprised.

Hank snorted. "Should I? I mean, yeah, that was like playing with fire, no offense. But wasn't it more like the fault of whoever's assigning who operates on who?"

"That's true, but—"

"Whatever. Look, it ended well. That's enough for me and Cole." Hank waved dismissively. He glanced at the android tentatively. "You, uh—you android doctors have names?"

"Currently, there were only two of us prototypes working in this hospital. It isn't hard to distinguish us apart—" Hank raised an eyebrow at that. Weren't androids identical in looks when they were in the same profession? "—but my name is Connor."

"Right. Connor. Thanks, I guess."

At the android's genuine surprise, Hank wondered if CyberLife outdid their job in developing this android doctors that they even have these little nuances like minute reactions and body languages.

"You're welcome, Lieutenant."

* * *

Hank got visited by most of the DPD, much to his utter disbelief. He honestly thought he was done winning them over with his  _pleasing_ personality since he and Beth divorced. Even Fowler was there bringing the obligatory basket of fruits and flowers for Cole. Huh. Look at that, he wasn't giving Hank a disciplinary warning this time.

The last to visit him were Ben and Gavin—Ben, Hank kind of expected. Gavin? Not really.

"Thought you already bite the dust, old man," was Gavin's way of greeting with that cocky asshole face of his.

"Too bad," Hank said disinterestedly.

"Guess that means you'll be around more to be a pain in the ass."

"Well, it certainly won't be your ass, kid."

It took Gavin a few seconds to get that. Suffice to say, Hank enjoyed the growl of annoyance he was given.

Ben cleared his throat. "So how's Cole?"

"In the ICU. He's alright, woke up briefly at least once, the doctor said." Connor told him earlier that Cole woke up again, longer compared to last time which was two days ago. "Connor said to give it at least a week."

"Connor?" Ben asked. "First name basis with the doctor?"

"He doesn't have surname, Ben. Android."

"Oh."

"They have android doctors now? Well, shit. Plastic pricks really go around," Gavin said from the sidelines, arms crossed. Yeah, he wasn't really known to love anything beside himself.

Hank ignored him. "Good thing, too, or nobody could have operated on Cole immediately. And me."

"Hold up," Ben said. "An android operated on a human? I thought—"

"I know. He knows it too. He apologized, and he saved Cole. As far as I know, I owe the android that."

Gavin snorted. "Hell, if I get to have an android doctor to take care of my bedside therapy, I'd rather die."

* * *

Fate sure work in a strange way.

Because the evening of the following day, it was Gavin occupying the bed next to Hank.

Connor was there in Hank's room, taking his blood pressure, when a mix of androids and human nurses wheeled Gavin in, heavily sedated with his torso wrapped in bandages.

"Whoah. Is that—" The nurses paid Hank no mind, so he turned to Connor questioningly.

"That is indeed Detective Gavin Reed. He was brought in at 7:34 PM with shots on his shoulder and gut," Connor said mechanically as if reading from a note. He probably was, given the flashing yellow of his LED.

Gavin wasn't exactly the type of person that you like. His personality just grew on you, and that was that. But for Hank to see a coworker of his—occasionally acting as his reluctant partner—laid there and deathly pale, he couldn't help the stab of worry for Gavin who was, jerk or not, still younger than Hank.

"It's only yesterday when he was here being his usual self," Hank murmured. He had been mulling over how short and unpredictable life was, and he would have passed it off as having a midlife crisis, but the recent events did bring up different perspectives.

There was bitterness in Hank that he wasn't able to discard since he got divorced. He was an easy man to talk to: Beth walked up to him one day and asked him to sign, he asked why, and she said there was another man. It never did leave his mind that he might be the one at fault; he might not have given her enough time and attention, with both poured to putting men behind bars instead. It was kind of miraculous that he wasn't lacking when it came to Cole.

Waking up in a hospital after an accident that could have killed him and Cole, it cleared Hank's mind enough to recognize what was his fault or not. It wasn't his fault that Beth went behind his back while they were still married, leaving Cole to him to be taken care of because she couldn't afford to have somebody with her every day that reminded her unhappy marriage with Hank. That was all on her. Hank shouldn't have wasted his time thinking all that shit.

"Lieutenant?" Connor's voice cut through Hank's reverie, making him almost jolt.

"Ah, yeah, sorry. I spaced out." Hank glanced back at the other bed, only to find a curtain drawn at the space between his and Gavin's area. "He gonna be alright?"

"I have no reason to believe he won't be. He was operated by a human doctor," Connor said.

"That isn't really what I mean, but whatever. He's an ass, but he's made of tough stuff as well."

"The people in your line of work usually are," Connor said. "It takes a lot of courage and determination to be a preserver of order and security."

"That sounded like you read it from a dictionary," Hank deadpanned.

"Does that bother you, that I don't make for a natural conversationalist?" Connor asked as if he was asking for a feedback on his performance. Maybe he was.

"No, because you're obviously an android and speaking that way is natural for you guys," Hank said.

"Not for an RK800 model. Working in a hospital to attend to human patients require us to be adaptable to human unpredictability. Though according to you, this feature of mine isn't satisfactory. Perhaps the upgraded version model of mine, the RK900, has it better."

"Now you sound like—ah, Christ. Never mind," Hank said wearily. "You're fine, alright? Don't sweat it. I'm just saying, if you want to be a 'natural', why not speak your mind and not the scripted one programmed on you? If that's possible."

The LED was blue despite the perplexed expression Connor has. He gave a small smile, his expression softening. "Understood. It is possible for us to speak out of our prompts."

Hank smirked. "Good. I don't mind blunt responses."

* * *

"Of all the rooms I could be placed in, it just has to be in here with you. Talk about bad luck."

"Nice to see you too, Gavin."

It was good to see Gavin being his usual sunshine self despite his injuries. Hank guessed that was something that couldn't be taken away, bullet or no bullet.

"Thought you already bite the dust, kid," Hank added, unable to resist.

"Shut it, old man. It's way too early in the morning."

"It's already 9 AM, Gavin. Look who's the old man here."

Gavin looked like he was about to retort when Connor entered the room, and his annoyance was instantly directed on the android instead, muttering  _here comes plastic prick_ under his breath. Hank was adjusting on his sitting position, placing the tray of food away from his lap. Connor was due to check for his stitches every morning.

Except Connor didn't stop by his bedside.

"What the fuck, you're my doctor too?" Gavin exclaimed. "I thought you're the old man's pet?"

Connor raised an eyebrow. "Language, Detective Reed. Yes, I am the doctor in-charged of your bedside therapy, and, no, I am nobody's pet." He noted Gavin's untouched food. "You haven't eaten, I see."

"The food at hospitals tastes like plastic, Captain Obvious," Gavin scoffed. "I bet it tastes like you."

"I'm flattered that you know what I taste like."

Hank's face must have been stupefied, but it got nothing on Gavin's own comical expression of wide eyes and mouth hanging open. Of course Hank basked on it.

"The hell—you—you think I—"

Connor gave what seemed like a sigh. "Do not stress yourself over what I said, Detective. If you don't like to eat then rest. I'll be checking your bandages."

Gavin was uncharacteristically quiet when Connor gingerly checked on Gavin's gauzes. Hank had never seen him this silent and tense. To think Connor did it with a one-liner.

As hilarious a dumbfounded Gavin was, Hank wasn't amused at the childish yell from Gavin the moment Connor left the room with only a nod and a greeting of  _Lieutenant_ at Hank's way.

"PHCK!"

* * *

"Do you smoke, Lieutenant?" Connor asked once he returned an hour later, with Gavin thankfully asleep. Hank could do without side commentaries while Connor was attending to him.

"Not for years." Connor nodded at the response, checking a box on his tablet.

"Alcohol intake?"

"Occasionally." Connor could look at you in a way that made you want to spill the beans. "Fine. I might have been drunk once or twice a week," Hank admitted.

Connor glanced at him disapprovingly. "I don't think I need to say to keep it moderate from now on."

"Actually, you can, but to make it clear, I never drive while drunk. I try to be responsible."

"That I can approve." Connor hummed. "I'll give you a diet plan that can help your wounds heal easily. Foods with Vitamin A and Vitamin D. You can use the same diet plan in preparing Cole's foods once he's discharged."

"More veggies?"

"More veggies."

Hank wasn't really a picky eater, but, you know, meat.

"You're not young anymore, Lieutenant. You need to keep tabs on what you're eating. Keep in mind the risk of high blood," Connor told him, like Cole's dentist telling him to keep his intake of sweets and candies in a minimum to avoid cavities.

"Right," Hank said, peering at Connor. "You're done hounding Gavin's ass, so it's my turn now."

"I don't understand what you mean," Connor admitted with a frown. "I wasn't here earlier."

"Are you telling me that you weren't here sassing Gavin an hour ago?"

"I don't remember 'sassing' anybody, Lieutenant." Seeing Hank unconvinced, Connor tilted his head, processing a thought. "Oh. You must have met the other android doctor, the RK900, an upgraded version of me."

"So that's what you mentioned. I thought you said I could tell you two apart?"

"You didn't?"

"He certainly has a mouth in him compared to you, but physically you two are like twins."

"He does have gray eyes, while I have brown."

Hank waited for a list of differences. When he got nothing else, he asked, "That's it?"

"That's it," Connor confirmed unsurely. "To be fair, it is a prominent feature that sets us apart."

Hank thought what an utter bullshit that was. "Of course. He got a name too?"

"He doesn't really understand the need for one. He calls himself RK900, or an Upgraded Connor. But the humans call him Nines," Connor told him.

"Nines, huh. Well, unless he's being cheeky to Gavin, I still would have mistaken him as you."

"He does have a  _pleasing_  personality that made him popular to the elderly. He's like that younger brother with a lot to say using witty remarks. Taller than me, too."

"No shit."

It honestly surprised Hank that Connor considered the upgraded version of him as a younger sibling. Funny, Hank wasn't aware that the androids could recognize kinship and family. Maybe they weren't as mechanical as he and most people made them to be. For all he knew, androids could feel some semblance of emotions too.

* * *

"Hey, kid," Hank greeted the moment Cole's eyes landed on him.

It took Cole a while to answer before breaking into a smile. "Dad," he called in a raspy voice. "Water."

Connor carefully assisted him on the matter, with Hank not letting go of Cole's small hand. He sipped from a straw and muttered a  _thank you_ to Connor. Cole never failed to be polite for a six-year-old.

"You're hurt," Cole pointed out in a clearer voice, mildly tracing at Hank's forearm. Connor left the room to give them their privacy, saying he would return later.

Hank shrugged. "It's just a scratch. How are you feeling?"

"Peachy," Cole said, shrugging as well. "I think I got a scar now."

Hank chuckled. Cole always thought scars were cool. Hank used to show him a few he got on the field and from childhood. "You're younger than me when I got my first stitch. I was seven years old when I fell from a tall tree. You beat me by one year, geez."

"I still like the story of you and the kidney stones more," Cole said. "When you said it hurt to pee and you didn't tell your mom because you thought the doctor would get Hank Junior cut off."

Hank might or might not have intended to share that to a young boy. Good thing it was only him and Cole at the moment. "I don't blame you. I find that funny, looking back, but remember that it isn't a story that you can share to others."

"Okay." Cole giggled. "Promise me too that you won't tell about that one time at school, when I left a gum on Mrs. Jones's chair. I kept saying to others that I didn't do that."

"Promise," Hank assured him. "I never did tell you before that I actually laughed at that when they called me from work."

"You did?"

"God, yes. You often complained how bad she was. I'm proud that you finally did something about it."

"I thought you were mad."

"Nah. That was me keeping up an appearance. I'm a police officer who shouldn't tolerate that, especially from my kid, but, hey, you took after me. I could see myself totally doing that, if I wasn't so scared of your grandpa and his belt," Hank confessed, making Cole laugh again.

Talking and reminiscing made it more clear how Cole was feeling. He was still the same kid before the accident, his laughs remained easy and his eyes bright as he listened to Hank's stories. For a while Hank forgot where they were, and it was like any other evening where he and Cole were sitting down for a meal and having a casual conversation like friends.

This wasn't something that could be easily taken away from them.

* * *

When Hank woke in the middle of the night with his back hunched over the side of Cole's bed, there was a blanket draped over him.

Cole was slumbering peacefully against his pillows, exactly how Hank tucked him to sleep a while ago. He wasn't sure how long he was out. He didn't even wake at Connor's presence—it was obviously him who came in and put the hospital-issued blanket over Hank.

For an android, it was awfully thoughtful of Connor.

* * *

Hank was allowed to be discharged as early as tomorrow. Today was his last day, with Connor checking on his healing bruises and the minor cuts on his skin that turned into red marks by the end of the week. The stitch on his side thankfully never reopened despite Hank's moving around to visit Cole in another floor and that initial response of his on the very first day he was admitted. Though to be fair, Connor was always there to help him without treating Hank like an invalid, keeping a short, respectful distance and ready in case Hank would topple over—he never did, but Hank appreciated how Connor even took his pride into consideration.

"Am I good to go now, doc?" Hank asked as Connor lifted his hospital gown slightly. At closer scrutiny, Hank was suddenly reminded of his lack of shower for almost a week. He was itching for one, literally and figuratively.

He didn't get an immediate answer, and what he got was Connor's gloved fingers running across the stitches. Hank would be lying if he said the sudden movement and featherlight touch didn't send a shiver down his spine.

Connor clearly didn't miss that, staring at Hank with a cryptic look on his face. It gave him the opportunity to really look at Connor at closer proximity, noting the freckles that dusted his skin, the fringes of hair that curled against Connor's forehead, and the right amount of shade of brown of his eyes.

The moment was broken when Connor nodded. "Indeed, Lieutenant."

"Hank. It's Hank," Hank corrected absently. He never got around to do it, kinda getting used to being called  _Lieutenant_ by Connor. Not that he minded—there was a bit of a chime there that he actually liked.

"Alright… Hank." Connor smiled, seemingly in satisfaction, as he tested Hank's name.

The curtain between him and Gavin was drawn that time, which was for the best given how Hank's eyes followed as Connor exited the room.

Because seriously, what the hell was that?

* * *

When Hank got back the next day afternoon, Cole was already transferred to Hank's former room. He wasn't sure whether that was a good idea, seeing Cole would be exposed to Gavin who has a potty mouth and was inherently a jerk.

Gavin was sleeping away his healing process, thankfully, when Hank arrived. Cole was sitting on his bed littered with small pieces of paper, Connor sitting on a chair by the bedside.

"Hi, dad," Cole said first, taking his eyes from the paper he was folding and smiling widely at Hank. "Doctor Connor and I are doing origami. Look, he made me this paper bird!"

Cole made a show of flapping the wings of the paper bird, earning him a soft ruffle on the head. "Been busy, I see." Hank nodded at Connor in greeting.

"Hello, Hank," Connor said, making a move to stand up and offer the seat to Hank. "Yes, Cole and I have been at this for almost an hour."

"The kid got you around his little finger already?" Hank commented amusedly. "Careful there. He might ask you to make a thousand."

"If he'll wish for a speedier recovery, I don't see why not," Connor said, smiling down to Cole. It looked more natural than the usual, Hank observed. "And Connor is enough, Cole," he said to the boy. "Unlike the human doctors in here, I did not undergo the same education to be deserving of the title of a doctor."

"Humble too," Hank muttered. "Anything I should know about?" he asked.

Connor glanced back at Cole briefly before mildly eyeing the door. Hank was quick to get the suggestion, excusing himself from Cole. Connor told the boy he would be back tonight to check on him again. "Cole has been asking for his mother," Connor immediately said once away from Cole's hearing. "It was partly the reason I distracted him with the origami."

Hank's face hardened before sighing and nodding. "Appreciate that. What did he say exactly?"

"He thought his mother already visited him," Connor said. "He asked when she will come by again and to wake him up if ever he would be asleep during her visit." He paused, thoughtful. Hank got the impression that Connor was studying him. "I didn't correct him in his assumption and did not answer as to when, but I did agree with his request."

Ah, fuck. If Hank was the one asked that, he might have given Cole false hopes and assurances; he could never stand Cole looking sad whenever Beth wasn't able to see him. "Shit. That's—shit."

"Do you mind if I ask a question?" Hank gave a slight shrug as he slumped against the wall, hand rubbing across his forehead. "Does she know what happened?"

"Didn't contact her personally, and I'm not sure if she was told by Ben or Fowler. Maybe she knows, just—I don't know, busy with her new husband or with whatever that doesn't concern her old family."

"Maybe it would be better if you tell her yourself," Connor told him carefully. "She's still his mother."

"Oh yeah? What the fuck do you know about that, huh?" Hank reacted harshly before he could stop himself. "Do you know how it will make me feel if she disregarded me? If I find out that she knows and she just doesn't give a shit?"

It was the first time Hank saw the LED turning red. He tensed, as if expecting a hostile response. What he got was Connor's expression relaxing, turning cold more like, when he regarded Hank with something akin to disappointment. "I'm sorry. I didn't know this is about your sensibilities first and foremost. If you'll excuse me, Lieutenant."

 _Lieutenant_. Connor might have only forgot, but Hank felt like he fucked something up effortlessly.

Shit.

* * *

Hank mellowed sometime later, thinking of apologizing once Connor came back. Exiting from the restroom and returning to Cole, he saw Connor about to enter.

"Hey," Hank said when Connor stopped by the door, tapping on his tablet before looking up at Hank. It took Hank a mere two seconds before he shook his head. "Uh, my bad. I thought you're Connor."

Nines raised an eyebrow, seemingly impressed. "I have to say, Lieutenant Anderson, that that is the shortest length of time somebody guessed us apart. Is it the eyes?"

"Among other things."

"Do tell what are the others?"

Hank really has no time for this. "Stance. Hair. Face."

"Intriguing. Connor and I are basically the same, and yet you are suggesting that he's unique. Technically, you're correct. His units are slightly outdated compared to mine."

That didn't sound right in Hank's ears. "And that should mean you're better than him?"

"Of course."

"Bullshit. At least that guy has more expressions than you."

Nines barely batted an eye, LED maintaining that steady blue. Unsurprisingly. "And here I thought I my interactions with Detective Reed provide an entertaining side-show."

"Not gonna argue with that," Hank grumbled. Nines was right, anyway. He and Gavin were a better entertainment compared to the TV during the time Hank was still admitted.

"Something happened between you two and Connor." It wasn't even a question. "I see, so that's how it is. Personally, I've been clueless as to what caused Connor's oddity earlier." Nines opened the door before saying, "As for Connor, I think you just missed him."

* * *

Hank tossed and turn that night, mainly thinking of Cole sleeping alone in the hospital.

Occasionally, though, Connor entered his mind.

Scratch that. Connor was in his head as often as Cole was, stubborn as he was to admit it. There was something unsettling about his reaction to what Hank said. He didn't know if androids could get angry, but Connor looked like it. And very, very disappointed at Hank. It made him think then if Connor truly thinking highly of him—oh, yeah, he did, Hank realized after mulling over his display of good relationship with Cole. He was a father, damn it, of course Cole should be his priority and not his delicate sensibilities.

Ironic though that it has to be an android, which Hank initially deemed incapable of acting and making decisions beyond their ingrained programming, that would shove at Hank's face that there was nothing complicated about calling Beth by himself in the first place.

Well, androids were certainly not given enough credit by humans, especially by people like Hank.  _Because they aren't thought to be able to act like humans do._ That was a very terrible mistake.

His phone read 2:45 AM when he reached for it from the bedside. He thought back on what Connor said, and maybe, maybe that wasn't such a bad idea.

Especially if he could rudely rouse Beth in the middle of her fucking beauty sleep, why not?

* * *

The first thing Hank noticed upon arriving at the hospital the following morning was the angry noises of a crying female.

The one subjected to her close-fisted hits was Connor merely standing there without a word, his LED flashing red but not making any move at all to dislodge the middle-aged woman from him. He was letting her wail and blame him for what appeared to be the death of the woman's husband.

When Hank met Connor's eyes briefly when he made a step towards them, Connor gave a subtle shake of his head.

Hank stopped, hesitant for a second before Connor gave him a look of assurance. The funny thing was, when Hank considered the situation and managed to imagine himself on the woman's shoes and it was Cole who died, he wouldn't be much different perhaps. Hell, maybe he would curse the world he lived in, along with all the androids because one couldn't save his kid.

He didn't interfere, although he waited on by the bench without seemingly intruding. Nines came in to the picture with a human female nurse that offered a more soothing comfort as she pried the woman away from Connor. The two RK androids were left alone, exchanging only glances before Nines left Connor to himself.

Hank didn't have to turn to know who sat quietly beside him.

"She's grieving, making anger her outlet," Connor said the first thing. "She'll be alright. In time."

"And you? You're going to be alright?"

Connor was silent, not answering immediately like he still had to process the question.

Hank snorted. "I mean, she didn't hit you too hard or something?"

"She didn't. I've encountered… worse." Connor's gaze flickered to Hank. "But thank you for asking."

Hank would have thought Connor was no longer there, with him being silent without the sound of breathing. He fiddled with his fingers. "About yesterday…"

"Apologies," Connor beat him to it. "I stepped over the line. I didn't mean to—"

"We could exchange apologies all day, and I bet it won't end." Hank sighed, running his hand on his hair. "Sorry, was a bit petty."

"Accepted." There was a smile that Hank completely missed. "I'm on my way to Cole. Shall we go?"

* * *

Cole has two visitors ahead of Hank.

It was Beth and her husband, Mark— _or was it Mike?_  Hank forgot. He knew the name started with letter M. He settled for Mike.

Mike stood by the bed, unassuming, his posture turning straight when he saw Hank came in with Connor. He nodded at Hank, the gesture returned out of politeness. The guy was nice enough to visit Cole.

Beth was sitting on Hank's usual place, feeding Cole sliced apples while she fondly listened at the kid excitedly telling her of some story from school. There was no small amount of affections in her eyes, which made Hank suddenly guilty for not telling her sooner. Hank didn't interrupt them, retreating outside as Connor proceeded with his checkup.

Connor emerged, his curious expression upon finding Hank there dropped once he was done processing the situation. "You did well," he said, approaching closer.

"Frankly, I did it to disturb her in the middle of the night," Hank said honestly. "I couldn't sleep."

"Is that so?" There was a lilt of amusement in there, but Hank could be mistaken. Geez, couldn't really tell with androids. "I'm sure you'll be glad to know Cole can be discharged as early as Tuesday next week."

"Good. That's good." Cole could return to his normal childhood life again out there without any complications. Alive. "Thank you, Connor." Hank could add  _for everything_ and probably wouldn't sound exaggerated, because Cole was his everything and Connor prevented fate from taking him away from Hank.

"You're welcome, Hank."

* * *

He must be getting delusional from his age and the accident, but Hank began thinking that maybe, just maybe, there was something beyond gratitude there.

Alright. What else was there? Hmm, maybe that lingering stare he often caught himself that started after that exchange? What about the fact that Connor was good with kids, and albeit knowing that it was part of his installed features, Hank liked it? He wouldn't start on how he was liking Connor's voice when he read at Cole while sparing glances at Hank from time to time with slightly upturned lips whenever he caught Hank's eyes on him, like he was in some private joke that Hank wasn't aware of?

Hank wasn't young anymore, and he could simply suck it up like a real man, admit that he was having some weird robo-crush on his kid's doctor like a fucking teenager. Connor was an android but was designed attractively to boot, and now that Hank thought about it, hitting all of the turn on buttons of his fifty-year-old bisexual ass.

Maybe the joke was on Hank.

* * *

Hank remained clueless on the right approach even until Tuesday rolled in, where Cole was finally out of his hospital gown and away from IV, and Gavin was left grumbling profanities to himself as to why he couldn't be out yet and have to stay with his  _blasted tin-can of a doctor_. Not that Hank was expecting anything less from him, only giving Gavin an all too pleasant goodbye and  _see you at the precinct._

Connor escorted them up to the entrance, kneeling in front of Cole to give him a jar of colorful origami stars as a parting gift and congratulations to his discharge. He encouraged Cole's paper crane making, reminding him that he would get to have a wish if he made a thousand. Hank felt like it would become a nightly ritual starting tonight.

When Connor stood to face him, he was bright-eyed, bemused, curious, hesitant, and with a hint of smile but also a bit… sad?

Hank wasn't an expert in androids and emotions in particular, but he had never seen a multitude of minute expressions appearing all at once. Figuring that seemed to be much more difficult than figuring how a woman's mind works.

"Well, this is goodbye, Lieutenant. It was nice meeting you, and you two take care."

"Same," Hank replied gruffly, unable to form a longer response. He offered his hand to compensate.

Connor shook it with an equally firm grip, but the softness of his palm's synthetic skin was more distracting. Hank released it for fear of overindulging on the contact.

Talk about smooth.

"I'll see you around, Connor," Hank tried again.

"Hopefully, not over an injury or two," Connor advised. "It would be better to see you outside the hospital."

Hank was caught off guard at the forwardness of that, briefly looking away to hide his embarrassment.  _That's preferable, yeah._

"I'd rather that you see me once you're okay, when you're completely healed through and through. And I'll be here, waiting."

Giving Hank his own time, that was new, and deeply appreciated, he thought. It might take a while, but if somebody was actually willing to wait by the end, then Hank was willing, too, to give it a shot.

Especially when it sounded so damn well worth it.

A smirk bloomed as he said, "Then I'll be back."

Might be even sooner than expected.


End file.
